Jack in the Forecastle; or, Incidents in the Early Life of Hawser Martingale

by John Sherburne Sleeper

The brig was laden with a cargo of lumber, rice, and provisions, and her destination was Cayenne, on the coast of Guiana. In January, 1810, we left the wharf in Charleston, and proceeded down the harbor. The wind was light, but the tide ebbed with unusual velocity, sweeping us rapidly on our way. We had nearly reached the bar when it suddenly became calm. The brig lost steerage way, and the current was setting towards the shoals. The pilot, aware of the danger, called out, "Let go the anchor!"

The order was promptly obeyed, and the small bower anchor was let go. The tide was so strong that when a sufficient quantity of cable was run out, the attempt to "check her," and to "bring up," resulted in capsizing the windlass, and causing, for a few minutes, a sense of indescribable confusion. The windlass, by its violent and spasmodic motion, knocked over two of the sailors who foolishly endeavored to regain control of its actions, and the cable, having commenced running out of the hawse-hold, would not be "snubbed," but obstinately persisted in continuing its course in spite of the desperate exertions of the captain, mate, pilot, and a portion of the crew, who clung to it as if it was their last hope. But their efforts were vain. Its impetuosity could not in this way be checked; and as the end of the cable by some strange neglect, had not been clinched around the mast, the last coil followed the example of "its illustrious predecessors," and disappeared through the hawse-hole, after having, by an unexpected whisk, upset the mate, and given the captain a rap across the shins, which lamed him for a week.

The "best bower" anchor was now let go, and the end hastily secured around the foremast, which fortunately "brought up" the brig "all standing," within half a cable's length of the shoal. No buoy having been attached to the small bower anchor, the anchor and cable were lost forever.

This accident, of course, prevented us from proceeding immediately to sea; and the wind having changed, the anchor was weighed at the flood tide, and the brig removed to a safer anchorage. Night came on, and as the brig was riding in a roadstead, at single anchor, in a tempestuous season, it was necessary to set an anchor watch. It fell to my lot to have the first watch; that is, to keep a look out after the wind, weather, and condition of the vessel, and report any occurrence of importance between the hours of eight and ten in the evening. The crew, fatigued with the labors of the day, took possession of their berths at an early hour, the mate and the captain also disappeared from the deck, after having instructed me in my duties, and cautioned me against falling asleep in my watch.

I was thus intrusted with a responsible charge, and realized the importance of the trust. I walked fore-and-aft the deck, with a step and a swagger that would have become a Port Admiral in the British navy. I felt that I had gained one important step; and, bound on a pleasant voyage, with kind and indulgent officers, had every thing pleasant to expect in the future. As Captain Turner would undoubtedly treat me with indulgence and overlook any shortcomings on my part, for the sake of his intimate friend, Captain Tilton, I determined, by my attention to duty, and my general conduct, to deserve the favors which I was sure I should receive.

Communing thus with myself, and lost in the rosy vagaries of a vivid imagination, I unhappily for the moment forgot the objects for which I was stationed on deck. I seated myself involuntarily on a spar, which was lashed alongside the long boat, and in a few minutes, without any intention or expectation of being otherwise than vigilant in the extreme, WAS TRANSPORTED TO THE LAND OF DREAMS!

A check was suddenly put to my vagabond thoughts and flowery visions, and I was violently dragged back to the realities of life by a strong hand, which, seizing me roughly by the collar, jerked me to my feet! At the same time, the voice of my kind friend and benefactor, Captain Turner, rung in my ears like a trumpet, as he exclaimed in a paroxysm of passion, "You little good-for-nothing rascal! This is the way you keep watch! Hey? Wake up, you lazy ragamuffin! Rouse yourself!" And, suiting the action to the word, he gave me two or three severe shakes. "Let me catch you sleeping in your watch again, and I'll send you to the cross-trees for four hours on a stretch. I knew I had got a hard bargain when your uncle shoved you upon me, you sneaking, sanctimonious-looking imp of Satan! But mind how you carry your helm, or you will have cause to curse the day when you shipped on board the Dolphin!"

This was a damper, with a vengeance, to my aspirations and hopes. The ladder on which I was about to ascend to fame and fortune was unfeelingly knocked away, and I was laid prostrate flat on my back almost before I began to mount! I was deceived in Captain Turner; and what was of greater consequence to me, my self-confidence was terribly shaken I was deceived in myself. My shipmates, nevertheless, sympathized with me in my abasement; gave me words of encouragement; bade me be of good cheer; keep a stiff upper lip; look out sharper for squalls in the future, and I should yet "weather the cape."

An awkward accident happened to me the following day, which tended still further to diminish the self-confidence I had so recently cherished. The small boat had returned about sunset from a mission to the city, and as I formed one of the boat's crew, the mate ordered me to drop the boat astern, and hook on the tackles that it might be hoisted to the davits. But the tide running furiously, the boat when under the quarter took a sudden sheer. I lost my hold on the brig, and found myself adrift.

I shouted lustily for help, but no help could be afforded; the long-boat being snugly stowed amidships, and the tide sweeping me towards the bar at the rate of several knots an hour. Sculling was a manoeuvre of which I had heard, and seen practised, but had never practised myself. I therefore took one of the oars and made a desperate attempt to PADDLE towards the brig. The attempt was unsuccessful; the distance between the brig and the boat was rapidly increasing, darkness was coming on, a strong breeze was springing up, and I was in a fair way to be drifted among the breakers, or swept out to sea over the bar!